


arizona

by lazyfish



Series: The Jeffersonian 'Verse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Stargazing, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Vic and Izzy take a vacation to Arizona.
Relationships: Victoria Hand/Isabelle Hartley
Series: The Jeffersonian 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135889
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	arizona

**Author's Note:**

> This is (technically) a prequel to _Muscle Memory_ but that is far from required reading to understand what's happening. All you need to know is Vic is an FBI agent and Izzy works as a forensic anthropologist and they are amazing.

“If I hear one more person say _dry heat_ , I’m going to shoot something.”

“You didn’t bring your gun with you,” Izzy said mildly. One of the downsides of flying commercially was that neither of them wanted to go through the rigamarole of declaring a firearm with their airline. They hadn’t ever needed a gun on any of their other travels, and Izzy didn’t see how this one would be any different - unless there was some FBI thing Vic wasn’t telling her.

Izzy darted her gaze to the side. Vic was too busy acting like she wasn’t sweating through her blazer to be doing anything nefarious behind her back. Though she hadn’t noticed anything off when they’d visited Portland either, and _that_ hadn’t turned out the way she had expected.

“I could find one here, I’m sure.” 

“Legally?”

“As a federal agent, everything I do is legal.”

“You and I both know that’s not how that works,” Izzy said with a smirk. “But I won’t report you if you won’t report me.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Vic answered, voice just as dry as the heat she was complaining about.

“You need to go pick anything up before we go hiking?” Iz asked as they climbed on the shuttle from the airport to their hotel. Their _overpriced_ hotel, as Vic was keen on reminding her. Everything was overpriced in this area though, up to and including water. They had weighed that into their considerations of where to go for their bi-yearly vacation, but ultimately she and Vic had decided the scenic areas of Arizona would be more fun than another city or suburb. As a bonus, most of the hiking trails they were going to see were forecasted to be empty - they were close enough to the Grand Canyon that people would rather see that than a pile of rocks. 

As far as Izzy was concerned, one pile of rocks was just as good as another. The Grand Canyon just happened to be the biggest pile of rocks. Or inverse pile of rocks. She was a forensic anthropologist, not a geologist - though she was sure Fitz and Mack would have something to say about her imprecise use of language.

“Lotion,” Vic grumbled.

“What, you mean -”

“Don’t say it, Iz -”

“Is the heat a little too dry for you?” Izzy all but cackled, knocking her shoulder against Vic’s. 

“I hate you.”

“Shush or you’ll start sounding like Hunter.”

“Oh, God.” 

“And you do realize you can’t go hiking in a blazer, right? They did teach you that at Quantico?”

“You know I packed hiking clothes, asshole.”

“Just saying I don’t understand why you wore that getup on the plane when there’s much more comfortable clothing available.”

“I need to exude stone cold bitch energy at every opportunity,” Vic said, easing herself back in the shuttle seat right as they hit a particularly jarring bump in the road. Izzy braced herself on Vic’s knee to keep them both from spilling out of their seats.

“A stone cold bitch who’s going to roll her ankle if she insists on wearing heels just for the sound they make on tile floors,” Izzy supplied.

“I could have chosen more appropriate footwear,” Vic acquiesced. 

“I love it when you say I’m right, you know that?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re sounding like Hunter again.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

\---

“It’s unfair that you manage to look hot while sweaty,” Vic said when she and Izzy reached the end of the trail. The hike they’d decided to start with wasn’t a difficult one by any stretch of the word, especially not for someone like Vic whose job involved copious amounts of physical activity, but the Arizona heat made it difficult not to sweat. Izzy _glistened_ , though, like she was a model for a goddamn magazine.

“You mean that I look hot when I’m hot?”

“Iz. I’m trying to give you a compliment and you insist on continuing to be a little shit.” Vic took the water bottle out of the side compartment of her backpack. She took a swig before passing it wordlessly to her girlfriend.

“This place would be nice at night,” Izzy said, propping herself against a random rock at the side of the trail as she sipped at the water. “Light pollution’s probably not an issue like it is back home.”

“That a hint?” Vic asked.

“Hand, we’ve been dating long enough for you to know when I’m hinting at something.”

“So yeah, it was a hint.” Vic said, sidling over to stand next to Izzy and wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders. “You don’t have to go all _Hand_ on me every time you’re pissed, you know.”

“I’m hot and sweaty, cut me a break.”

“I would do that if you stopped being a little shit.”

Izzy retended to consider the proposition before grinning. “Nah.” She tipped her chin back to accept the kiss Vic ducked in to give her nonetheless. 

“I’d come back out here after dark if you wanted,” Vic offered, voice substantially softer than before. Her fingers tangled through Izzy’s, sweaty palms pressing together. 

“I know,” Iz answered. When she squeezed Vic’s hand the sweaty skin made a farting sound, and Vic rolled her eyes. They couldn’t even have a goddamn romantic moment without the universe having something to say about it. Well, the universe and the _dry heat_ that still somehow resulted in a whole lot of sweat. 

“We probably shouldn’t stay out here until then, though,” Vic admitted, dropping their hands (entirely because holding sweaty hands wasn’t all that appealing and not at all because she needed to fidget, no sir). “We didn’t dress for night weather.”

“And you want to go to the souvenir shop.”

“ _You_ want to go to the souvenir shop.”

“You want to go to the souvenir shop and pretend I’m the one who wants to go to the souvenir shop,” Izzy challenged, raising an eyebrow.

The worst part about being in a long-term relationship was how her girlfriend was, without fail, able to see through her. Some sort of special agent she was.

“Mercy,” Vic said, reaching for Izzy’s hand again. “C’mon, you wanna take any pictures before we turn around?”

\---

The trip to the small gift shop by the park’s entrance had been productive. Productive for Izzy, at least - she wasn’t sure exactly what Vic had gotten, since her girlfriend had shooed her away practically the moment she stepped through the door. Still, she’d picked up a book on geology that Mack was going to love and a few other bits and bobs to remind her other colleagues she still did think about them even when she was on her vacation. She was a good boss like that.

There was a different gift at the bottom of her suitcase, but Izzy wasn’t going to give it to Vic until she stopped being all cloak-and-dagger about what she had purchased. They had enough mysteries in their lives without adding more, as far as Izzy was concerned.

They’d returned to the hotel room, had a quick shower (together, not that anyone needed to know that detail) and changed into their secondary hiking outfits. They’d each brought no less than ten hiking outfits thanks to a mutual overpreparedness, the assurance they were going to get really fucking sweaty, and a hatred of having to pay for a laundromat.

“So,” Izzy said as they drove down the long, winding road to the park they’d been at before sundown. “When are you going to crack?”

“I’m a federal agent, I -”

“Baby,” Izzy interrupted, reaching a hand out for Vic. “I love you, but I hate the phrase _federal agent_ more than _dry heat_.”

“You could use it too, if you wanted.”

“I’m a federal employee, not a federal agent. There’s a difference,” Iz snorted. She would never want to be in the FBI, no siree, no thank you. 

“It’s semantics.”

“Our whole _jobs_ are semantics.”

“Our whole jobs are solving murders,” Vic corrected. “Not semantical at all.”

“Some of it is.”

“If you’re talking about that time we convicted a guy because of how he talked about _mushrooms -_ ” Vic began. She hated Mushroom Guy.

“Hunter’s still really proud of that case!” The only thing Vic hated more than Mushroom Guy was that Hunter’s extensive knowledge of edible mushrooms had led to his conviction. Not that she would admit that, but Izzy could tell by the way Vic’s jaw ticked that it still bothered her.

“Yes, but -”

“Don’t but, it was cool!”

“I can’t believe you just called something _cool_. Are we seven?”

“You complain when I use big words!” Izzy whined. It was more of good-natured needling than actual complaining, since Vic hardly complained about anything, but what was the point of a PhD if your girlfriend wouldn’t let you show off every once in a while?

There _was_ no point, that’s what.

They continued bickering good-naturedly until they pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead. Most of the other park-goers seemed to have cleared out; Izzy wouldn’t have been surprised if the trail was particularly popular at sunset, with the view it had. Most places outside city limits had great views here; it was part of the charm of Arizona. Tomorrow maybe she and Vic would find a nice romantic sunset to watch. 

_Romance_. It was strange that Vic had somehow coaxed her into enjoying romantic gestures, considering Vic didn’t enjoy them herself. They were, somehow, both saps that enjoyed pretending they weren’t saps.

“We agree that if we find a body on the trail we don’t report it?” Izzy asked under her breath. The chances they were going to find a body were basically zero, but Izzy liked to establish these sorts of agreements beforehand so as not to arouse suspicion. Reporting a body was a pain in the ass - which was probably why Vic’s lips curled into a smile and she gave a nod at the suggestion, rather than asking why Izzy was thinking about that in the first place.

“So,” Vic said as they started down the trail. “Why stargazing?”

Iz lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Just miss it, I guess.” When she was younger, living out in the countryside, she’d gone out to watch the stars every night. Moving to the city it had been a shock when she could hardly see anything through the haze of smog and light pollution. That was decades ago, but some nights it still took her by surprise when she went outside and stars were hidden.

And some nights it _didn’t_ take her by surprise, which was even scarier. She never wanted to forget that this was what the night sky was supposed to look like.

“We could go out more, if you’d like,” Vic offered quietly. “There’s places in Western Maryland we could go. The drive wouldn’t be too long.”

“You think?”

“If you miss it, why not?”

Izzy stopped, glancing over at Vic. The red highlights in her hair lack their usual vibrance in the silver-blue light of the moon and stars, and for once, Iz found herself missing the orange glow of streetlights. They always lit Vic’s hair on fire, making it look almost otherworldly. The starlight gave it a different sort of glow, Izzy supposed.

“You know I love you, right?” Izzy asked.

“Of course,” Vic answered, stepping closer. The toes of her hiking boots nudged against Izzy’s, and she tipped her head back to accept the lingering kiss Vic placed on her lips. Public displays of affection weren’t really their things, but this didn’t feel public at all. It felt like it was just them and the cool, dry air, the crickets chirping a symphony around them as starlight spilled down.

“Who else would I let drag me to Arizona?” Vic murmured when she broke away.

“Shut up.” Iz ducked her head so she wouldn’t have to look Vic in the eyes. Silver-blue was a different sort of glow - one that made Vic’s eyes shine in ways that Izzy almost wished she was a poet, or at the very least a photographer, instead of a scientist.

“Make me.”

Izzy never had been good at ignoring Vic’s challenges.


End file.
